


A Study in Stubborn

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A trip through Bucky's head, Bucky is a stubborn bastard, Gen, HYDRA is bad at what they do, Not your typical Bucky recovery story, Post Winter Soldier AU, Really less Stucky then it should be, Really more amusing then it should be, Rooftop chases, Steve should be in the hospital, maybe if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You ok?” Steve asked, gesturing at Bucky's previously dislocated shoulder. Bucky rotated his arm and then pointed at the now more obvious bloodstain on Steve's abdomen. </p><p>“You, should be in the hospital, Rogers. Captain America isn't supposed to bleed,” he said sternly. </p><p>“Says the guy who made me bleed,” Steve said lightly. </p><p>“Says the guy who dislocated my arm,” Bucky threw back and they grinned at each other. “I tried to kill you, why aren't you more mad at me?”</p><p>Steve shrugged. “Lots of people have tried to kill me. Guess it was just your turn.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Stubborn

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a trip around Bucky's head and turned out as not even remotely your typical Bucky recovery. This is my first Marvel Fanfic.

When Bucky opened his eyes he wasn't sure where he was. The walls around him were brick, old, dirty. It smelled like New York. Bucky shook his head and winced as he sat up. His right shoulder was dislocated, that was the first thing he noticed. He was bruised all over and there was a shard of glass sticking out of his thigh, but nothing was broke and as he flexed his left arm, the gears whirred and spun almost perfectly so nothing in the metal was damaged to the point where he couldn't make it function.

With a groan Bucky managed to rise and stumble over to the widow and look out through the filthy glass. The sight that greeted him made his heart skip a beat. Brooklyn. He was in Brooklyn. He looked around at the room he was in and suddenly he noticed things. He noticed the old yellow fridge with the door hanging off, the noticed the green couch, almost completely collapsed on itself, noticed the painting on the wall, partially obscured by a sheet of plywood. He stumbled over to it and threw the plywood out of the way with his metal hand. He blinked, his eyes taking in the faded mural on the wall, the view of Paris that Steve had painted in 1938, right after they had moved into the place. He was in their old apartment, and he had no idea how he had gotten there.

Bucky sank to the ground and ran his metal and through his hair, glancing down at his flesh arm, knowing he was going to have to shove it back in it's socket sooner or later. He might at well make it sooner and get it over with. There was no telling how long it would be until the HYDRA handlers found him and dragged him back to the cryo chamber and he had a few things he wanted to do before that happened. Gritting his teeth against the pain he gripped his arm above the elbow and with a quick jerk rotated it back into it's socket, biting back the scream that wanted to tear from his throat.

When he caught his breath again he stood, walking over and opening the window to look out at the buildings around him. Across the road there was clearly still someone living in the adjoining apartment building, despite how rundown it was. Bucky's first priority became steal a new set of clothing, and maybe some food, then figure out what the next move was.

Twenty minutes later he tossed a sandwich wrapper in a garbage can as he wandered down the streets of his old neighborhood. He had traded his battle gear for a pair of faded jeans, red shirt, hoodie, and baseball cap. He healed faster then normal, after all of HYDRA's experiments on him, but he still used a belt to make himself a sling to keep his right shoulder immobilized for a few hours. He swiped a cell phone off a passer-by and hit the internet as soon as he returned to the empty apartment.

He had been given relevant information when he was woken the most recent time. The year, 2013, the day, Tuesday, who was president of the United States, Obama, who was Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Cameron, the fact that Queen Elizabeth was still on the throne. The basic rundown of the world, almost five years after the last time he had been awake in 2008. As Bucky scrolled through the news his eyes widened.

_**S.H.I.E.L.D INFILTRATED BY HYDRA, CAPTAIN AMERICA REVEALS THE TRUTH. ASSASSIN KNOWN AS THE WINTER SOLDIER AT LARGE AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.** _

Bucky stared at a picture of his own face, his arm raised to block most of his features and Steve's shield and he winced. He remembered a little of what had happened the last few days, he remembered fighting with Steve, his mask being pulled off, his own mouth forming the words 'Who the hell is Bucky?' and the shock on Steve's face when he saw his best friend back from the dead.

Bucky sat against the brick wall for hours, scrolling through the news, reading everything there was about the group they called the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D, HYDRA. Everything he hadn't been allowed to know while he was held in their brainwashing and programming. He thought back to when he had first woken up in their lab, how he had still been himself. He remembered how hard it had been to break free of the programming, how many years it had taken. He had fallen from the train in the Alps in 1945 and the first time he had broken through their brainwash had been in 1956.

It had gotten easier after that. First it took ten years, then five, then a few months, then a few weeks. Soon he was able to break through their endless programming in a matter of days. In 1991 Bucky had opened his eyes and found himself face to face with Howard Stark.

“Barnes?” Stark had croaked, before he sat down heavily. “You're alive?”

“So is HYDRA,” Bucky managed. He wasn't sure what was happening, how he had gotten where he was. He was never sure after he broke through, the last few hours becoming fuzzy once he regained himself.

“What did they do to you?” Howard asked, his hand reaching towards Bucky's left arm. Bucky glanced down. Vague memories came of when he fell from the train, his arm catching as he fell, looking for it and it was gone. The next thing he knew he was waking up with this metal monstrosity attached to his shoulder.

“I lost it in the fall,” he said. Somehow he knew Howard would understand.

“And HYDRA found you?”

Bucky nodded. “They...programming. Brainwashing. It doesn't last for very long, it's not hard to overcome if I have enough time. I did it once before, in '56 I think. But as soon as I'm back there, they wipe me again, and I have to start over. It's like I'm trapped inside my own head, watching. I can't control what I do, what I remember. Think there must have been other times I broke through, but it's all fuzzy.”

“Are you here to kill me?” Howard asked and Bucky turned away, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He didn't know Howard well when they were in the war together. Steve had always spent more time with Howard and Peggy, but he had liked the inventor. He didn't want him to die.

“If I don't do it,” he said quietly. “They'll send someone else.” Behind him he heard Howard sigh.

“I never stopped looking, you know,” Howard said tiredly and when Bucky glanced over his shoulder Howard had his face buried in his hands. “After the plane went down...Peggy tried to make me stop, but I never gave up. I always believed I could find him.”

“It wasn't your fault,” Bucky said quietly.

“I know,” Howard muttered. “That doesn't mean I didn't feel responsible.”

“You know I have to do it.”

“I know,” Howard sighed. “But, Barnes...I have a son. Could you...make it look like it was an accident? For him?”

“I'll do what I can,” Bucky mumbled, still staring out of Howard's window at New York City.

Two weeks later Howard and Maria Stark were killed in a car accident and Bucky went back into cryo stasis.

Bucky sighed, letting his head drop back against the wall as he finished reading the article on Howard's son, Tony, and the superhero he had become. Whatever the papers may say, he could see the haunted look in Stark's eye even in photographs and he never wanted to know what was going on inside that mans head. His own mind was dark, but he suspected Tony's was far, far worse.

Turning his head, Bucky's eyes went to the mural he had helped Steve paint and he sighed. He knew it wouldn't be easy, trying to go back. They all thought, rightly too, that he was a cold hearted assassin. They had no way of knowing that the real Bucky Barnes was still there, still resilient, still stubborn as the day he was born. He knew they would all expect him to be damaged beyond repair, bound by unbreakable programming. He was going to have a hard time convincing anyone he wasn't much different then he had been in 1945 when he fell to his supposed death.

The cell phone beeped and Bucky glanced at it, noticing the light next to the camera was on. He frowned, putting his thumb over the camera and peering at the screen, trying to see what was accessing the camera. New technology should be strange to him, but he didn't mind learning, and he learned fast. HYDRA had always had some of the most advanced tech to play with anytime he woke up, so a smart phone wasn't much of a stretch, five years from his last mission. He winced as he recalled the details of that mission, even as he tossed the phone on the floor and smashed it under his boot.

In 1996, the Winter Soldier had been woken and given the task of training a group of thirteen young girls, ranging in ages from ten to fourteen, part of a program called 'Black Widow' an assassin training program. There was one, a redhead, that had stuck out from the others, a twelve year old by the name of Natalia Alianovna Romanov. She had a fire in her as bright as her hair and Bucky remembered breaking through his conditioning in record time with her there. He had told her his secret, let her know who he was, what he was. She had needed it, she had needed the strength his story had given her.

Twelve years later he hadn't broken out of the conditioning in time and he had put a bullet through her, killing the man she was protecting. She hadn't remembered him from her time in the Red Room, but he hadn't been able to kill her. The same thing had happened just the day before, when he fought her, trying to get to his target, to Steve. She hadn't know him for who he was, but he had hesitated for just a moment and the bullet from his gun went into her shoulder instead of her head.

Footsteps on the ground floor of the abandoned building sent Bucky out the window and up the fire escape to the roof, discarding the belt sling and rotating his shoulder with a wince. Almost healed, but he could have used another uninterrupted hour. He wasn't sure who was after him, HYDRA, fake S.H.I.E.L.D, real S.H.I.E.L.D, the Avengers, or just Steve, but he didn't care. He wasn't ready to turn himself over to anyone.

Steve. Bucky knew when he came out of cryo that they had found him at last and his heart had skipped a beat when he saw the first picture he'd seen of Steve in almost seventy years. He was sure it was why it had taken him less then a week to break through their conditioning, twice, since they had tried to wipe him again. Steve was alive.

“Bucky!”

So, it was Steve after him, Bucky thought with a smirk. Well, he wasn't going to make it easy, even if all he wanted was to hug his best friend and tell him he was an idiot, just like old times.

There was a team with Steve, a few men, the dark skinned man with the mechanical wings, Natalia, and a man with a bow, but Bucky led them on a merry chase across Brooklyn that lasted well into the night and he finally lost everyone but Steve after he crossed one of the bridges into Manhattan.

“Bucky! Please stop!” Steve called for probably the tenth time, and Bucky did, perching on the edge of a building and turning to watch Steve come to a halt a few yards from him.

“I'm not coming in, Steve, not yet,” Bucky said, tilting his head as he watched Steve. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and he was panting, clutching his side. The bruises on his face were a sickly yellow and Bucky thought he saw blood through the t-shirt from the gunshot wounds he himself had given Steve. He winced, knowing that what happened hadn't been his fault, but wishing he had broken the conditioning earlier and not put his friend through so much.

“Damn it, Buck, I just want to talk,” Steve said as he doubled over, hands on his knees. His shield was probably still in the bottom of the Potomac where he had dropped it.

“We can talk all you like, but I have some things to do first,” Bucky said, his voice a little scratchy from not being used. “Shouldn't you be in the hospital, you punk?”

“Jerk,” Steve responded automatically as he straightened, his blue eyes wide. “It's really you in there, isn't it? Sam warned me you probably wouldn't be you, that you wouldn't remember anything...” his voice was full of wonder as he spoke and Bucky shrugged.

“HYDRA wasn't as good at conditioning people as they thought they were,” he grinned. “And you know me, I'm a stubborn bastard.”

“Damn right you are,” Steve grinned. Then his smile faded. “Bucky, what is it you have to do?”

“There are a few people I'd like to kill,” Bucky smirked. “Top of the list is an ass named Pierce.”

“Sorry Buck, not gonna happen. He's already dead,” Steve chuckled and Bucky sighed.

“I haven't seen you since 1945 and you're already spoiling all my fun,” Bucky grumbled.

“Bucky, please, just come back with me. No one will hurt you,” Steve pleaded. Behind him Natalia had caught up to them and was speaking into a microphone, warning the rest of the team away. Bucky smiled a little when he saw her and tilted his head.

“I'm not worried about anyone hurting me,” Bucky said quietly. “I'm worried about hurting them by reminding them of all the bad things I've done in my life.”

“It wasn't you, Buck,” Steve said, taking a couple of steps closer.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighed. “Mostly. There are a few things that I do get to take credit for that I really wish I couldn't. But you're right, most of it was HYDRA.”

“You ok?” Steve asked, gesturing at Bucky's previously dislocated shoulder. Bucky rotated his arm and then pointed at the now more obvious bloodstain on Steve's abdomen.

“You, should be in the hospital, Rogers. Captain America isn't supposed to bleed,” he said sternly.

“Says the guy who made me bleed,” Steve said lightly.

“Says the guy who dislocated my arm,” Bucky threw back and they grinned at each other. “I tried to kill you, why aren't you more mad at me?”

Steve shrugged. “Lots of people have tried to kill me. Guess it was just your turn.”

“You are so lame,” Bucky sighed right before he tipped himself backward off the building. He caught a fire escape ladder and fell slowly to the street, glancing up to see Steve and Natalia watching him from the top of the building. Steve was still grinning.

“Later, punk!” Bucky shouted with a mock salute before he vanished into the shadows.

He knew he was going to turn himself over soon, but there were three very specific things on his mental list that he needed to do.

The first was easy enough to accomplish. Kill Brock Rumlow. It took him perhaps twenty minutes and was immensely satisfying.

The second was harder, mentally at least. He stole an enormous bouquet of flowers and visited his sister Becca's grave, sitting and talking with her for hours, telling her everything.

Last, he visited the grave of Howard and Maria Stark, apologizing again for causing their deaths knowingly, not under the influence of HYDRA's programming.

Once that was done, he took grate pride in breaking into the Avengers Tower and loitering in Tony's workshop for and hour before he made his way to Steve's floor and made himself comfortable on the couch.

About an hour later Steve came into his apartment, tired, but wearing a clean shirt over new bandages. He flicked the lights on, even though the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and he froze when he saw a pair of feet sticking up from the couch. Cautiously he made his way over until he could see the person that belonged to those feet, casually browsing through one of his sketch books.

“Bucky?” he asked, astonishment clear in his voice. “How the hell did you get in here?”

Bucky grinned. “You might want to tell Stark Jr. that he's worse at security then Howard was.”

Steve sighed and picked up Bucky's feet, depositing them in his lap as he sat heavily on the couch. “You know, I expected this to be a lot harder. I expected you to come back...broken...not you...instead you're just...”

“Totally the same kid you knew in the 30s?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.

“How?” was all Steve could mange, his voice choked up with emotion.

“The mind can do amazing things when it has a reason to survive,” Bucky said cryptically.

Steve just gave him a look and Bucky burst out laughing.

No, it wasn't as simple as it seemed and yes, it was going to be a long road, and a lot of hurt and anger when he listed all the things that he had been responsible for. It was going to be hard, facing up to all of that, facing the government, dealing with what was left of S.H.I.E.L.D., finding what was left of HYDRA. For one he expected Tony would try his best to kill him when he learned the truth about his parents, but Bucky was ready for that. He had Steve on his side and he was home at last, ready to take anything else the world thought it could throw at him.

“You're such an idiot sometimes,” Steve sighed.

“But I'm your idiot, punk,” Bucky grinned and Steve grinned with him.

No one would ever be fully sure why HYDRA hadn't been able to break James Buchanan Barnes, but it probably had a lot to do with a tall blonde man named Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, the only one in the world close to matching Bucky for stubborn. One of them was a handful but together, the world didn't know what it was getting itself in for.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I think this is terrible...I think it went way off where it was supposed to go. I think it's not near as Stucky as it should be...which is odd, considering how hard I ship it... I...am not sure what happened. It did one of those "I'm going to write" Story Says: But it won't make any sense!
> 
> So...hope you enjoyed.


End file.
